


Identity crisis

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Humor, M/M, Pranks, Slash, paint swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a good idea to overlook the similarities between some 'bots model types. It's even worse to allow the Twins to notice this... Random, drabble-ish oneshot. Mentions of InfernoxRed Alert, TwinsxPerceptor</p>
            </blockquote>





	Identity crisis

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 14, 2011

 

**C.M.D: Don't ask me why I even bothered to write this... My mind was on total meltdown while I was writing it, and was going haywire from the fact that there were two firetrucks in the Autobot faction. (Yes, that means I'm believing that Inferno, and Red Alert, are both alive beyond season 2, since they weren't on the list of those killed during the movie. ...I have yet to double-check the Mausoleum episode in season three to back up this theory. I rather remain ignorant. It makes me happier~) So, yes, anyways, exhausted brain plus two firetrucks multiplied by the concept of an identity mix-up makes for this random fic.  
And yes... I'm stretching when I say Hot Spot and Inferno look the same...**

* * *

**_Identity Crisis_ **

* * *

For a time, no one bothered to comment on the fact that Inferno and Hotspot had similar model types. It was common after all, to have different mechs and femmes share the same vehicle scan. There were some differences though: such as their paintjob, and the fact that Hotspot had water cannons up by his audios instead of the wing-like formation Inferno's ladder folded into in bi-pedal mode.

Even still, the two mechs were alike in their mannerisms and actions, to the point that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker became too interested in what would happen if one or the other had a repaint...

* * *

"I-inferno!"

Red Alert, horns sparking as usual, ran down the hall; rushing for the bulkier 'bot. "I-inferno! It, it's terrible!," the lamborghini cried, throwing himself into the firetruck's side. The security director nuzzled the armour, clutching his friend tightly. "T-they're all Decepticons, the lot of them! They were whispering, I heard them, and they were talking about disguises and swapping places and, and, and...!"

"Uh...," the red firetruck replied, squirming in discomfort. "Red Alert, sir..."

"They could be everywhere! Oh, primus," Red Alert gasped, servos flying to his face in terror at the mere thought. "They could be anyone..."

"D-don't leave me, Inferno!," the smaller mech cried, once again throwing his arms about the other Autobot's chassis and hugging the firetruck desperately. "Inferno" squirmed even more, physically trying to remove the frantic security director, without his intentions appearing too obvious.

"P-please, Red Alert, sir," the bigger 'bot said, "I... I'm not Inferno..."

Red Alert pushed himself away from his friend immediately, forcing his paranoia to the side so he could properly study the firetruck. What he saw made his horns flare white as terror overcame him; his glitch overloading the lamborghini's systems as he crashed with a strangled whimper.

"Ah slag...," the not-Inferno sighed as the security director fell to the floor in an undignified heap.

* * *

Inferno was not happy.

He didn't know how, and really he didn't care to find out, but somehow those slagging Twins managed to sneak into his quarters while he had been recharging and repainted him. And not just some shoddy quick spray-can brush across the front of his chassis either. Noooo... Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had managed to repaint him in every nook and cranny, until there was not a single patch of red left in his paintjob. Normally, Inferno would just go to the washracks and rinse off, but the paint was super adhesive or something and refused to come off, no matter how much the firetruck scrubbed. Even worse, Hoist seemed to be missing entirely off base, so Inferno couldn't even ask the towtruck's help changing his colour back.

That meant Inferno couldn't go see Red Alert like he usually did.

Already he had been mistaken several times as Hot Spot; one of those times by First Aid himself, who had spotted the firetruck and not realizing the switch, started fluttering about the bigger mech worriedly, assuming something had happened to their gestalt bond and that's why he could not feel his brother despite their close proximity. There was definitely no way he could go visit the security director like this... Poor Red would more than like be overwhelmed by his glitch, jumping into a string of conspiracy theories about Inferno, before either crashing or attempting to attack the firetruck; possibly both.

"Ah'll rip t'eir tailpipes off," Inferno growled, stomping down the hall. After having no luck of his own, he figured he'd go down and check to see if First Aid had any paint thinner in the medbay. At least then he'd get this stupid blue shade off of himself; he might even be able to see Red Alert after that -despite how embarrassing a meeting that would be. "Ah'll really slag t'ose fraggin' Twins this time. Poor Red musta bein' scared ou'ta his process'r! Ah was ta meet him t'ere fer lunch too..."

Well, there wasn't much he could do about it now... There was no way he could face the security director until he was somewhat presentable again.

"First Aid, ya got any'ing ta git this slag off o' me?"

The tiny protectobot flinched as the firetruck stormed into the medbay, still huffing and puffing over the Twins' silly prank. "H-hot -I mean, Inferno! You probably shouldn't be here," the medic stuttered softly, his usually calm vocalizer spitting static nervously.

"'nd just why no-," Inferno felt his vocalizer click off, optics widened at the sight just behind the medic.

Standing just beside the medical berth, holding an unconscious Red Alert in his arms, was Inferno. But no, that couldn't be right... because, well, he was Inferno, but who was this red firetruck cradling his Red Alert!

"WHY YA-!"

* * *

"Did you hear a scream just now?"

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe ignored the scientist, servos roaming all over Perceptor's frame. With a half-choked moan, the smaller mech managed to push the warriors' servos off of him, using the moment to focus on his surroundings. "N-now, I am quite confident in the matter that my audio receptors had received a most grievous manner of vocal modulation coming from a north-eastern direction."

"Oh, yeah...," Sideswipe grinned, grabbing one of Perceptor's servos and kissing the palm. His grin turned into a devilish smirk when he noticed it caused the microscope to blush brightly, squirming weakly against the frontliner's attentions. "That's probably just Inferno."

"Or Hot Spot," Sunstreaker added, nuzzling Perceptor's scope, "Possibly even Red Alert."

"R-red Alert?," Perceptor gasped, a little moan slipping past his lip components. "W-what mischief h-have you inflicted upon our u-unwary comrades this time?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," the Twins leered, quickly overwhelming the scientist and distracting him thoroughly. Perceptor only whimpered blissfully, falling under the lamborghinis' pleasurable siege willingly.

* * *

Slowly, everything came back into focus.

Red Alert groaned lightly as the pixels reorientated themselves before his optics, showing him the ceiling of the medbay. For a moment, the security director was confused, but his confusion turned to fright as a helm was suddenly stuck into his line of sight.

"Red, yeh're online!"

"Ahhhhh!," the lamborghini screamed, rolling off the berth to the floor below. "I-inferno!," he cried, spotting the red firetruck across the medbay. Immediately, Red Alert scrambled for the other mech.

"I-inferno! Th-they're trying to get me!," Red Alert cried, throwing his arms around the firefighter's middle and pressing his face into the other's chestplates.

"R-red!"

"Red Alert, sir, h-he's not Inferno..."

"First Aid, I already told him that. C-could someone please get him off..."

"Sir, please, it's me, First Aid. That's Hot Spot that you're hugging, not Inferno. Inferno's right her- oh! Inferno, what's the matter?"

Digesting the words being tossed back and forth all around him, Red Alert slowly pushed himself away from taller mech, optics flickering upwards with trepidation. Again, his vocalizer gave a terrified squeak, horns sparking wildly, as the security director threw himself away from the red firetruck. "I-imposter!," Red Alert shouted, back-pedaling to the nearest wall. "Y-you're all imposters!"

"O-oh no...," First Aid croaked, looking uncertainly between the lamborghini and the two other Autobots. How was he supposed to handle Red Alert's glitching?

"Imposters! Liars! DECEPTICONS! Y-you won't get anything out of me! Never!"

"Please, sir," Hot Spot said, taking a step forward. "We're not imposters or Decepticons; Sideswipe and Sunstreaker just-"

"SILENCE!," Red Alert screamed, servos fluttering about for a weapon; processor too scrambled too realize he could simply reach into subspace for his blaster. "You are not Inferno! Don't speak to me!"

"Red...," Inferno tried, sparing a glare at the protectobot leader before settling his gaze on the trembling security director. "Please, Red... it's me. Yeh know me."

"I-inferno...," the lamborghini croaked, looking about frantically. Where had his friend's voice come from? Certainly not from the red firetruck's vocalizer... but then where? Red Alert sunk to the floor slowly, servos to his helm as he was swallowed up by his fear and confusion. Coolant filled his optics, threatening to fall down his cheekplates, while his horns still flashed a dangerous blue.

"He's gonna-"

"Ah know First Aid; lit me talk ta him," Inferno interrupted the medic. He looked back to the lamborghini anxiously, wringing his one good servo around the nozzle of his other arm. "Red... yah trust me, right?"

A small, frightened flick of the other's helm.

"Then listen ta me now, 'kay? Ah wan' yah to shut yer optics. Jus' shutter 'em real tight like. And focus on mah voice."

Everything about that command screamed danger to the glitching security director. But, this was Inferno speaking... he trusted Inferno. Slowly, Red Alert forced himself to shutter his optics, latching on tightly to the firetruck's voice. Inferno continued to speak, offering comforting words and remembered times together to the distraught mech. As the other spoke, Red Alert forced himself inch by inch to his pedes, shuffling forwards at a snail's pace. He whimpered again when he finally touched Inferno's arm; rushing forwards and wrapping his arms about that familiar shape. Inferno smiled softly at the touch, winding his own arms about the smaller mech and lifting him closer to his frame.

"Now Red...," the firetruck continued, cradling the lamborghini close. "When Ah say ta, unshutter yer optics. But rememb'r, Sideswipe 'nd Sunstreaker done gone 'nd played a nasty prank on Hot Spot 'nd mehself. Changed 'r paintjobs so now Ah be all blue 'stead of red. Ah'm still mehself though, understand?"

"O-okay...," Red Alert mumbled back. At the timid confirmation, Inferno told the security director to unshutter his optics. Red Alert did so, quickly, and fought just as hard to rein in his horror at the fact that it was the blue firetruck holding him.

_'This is Inferno,'_ he had to remind himself sharply. _'Inferno is the only one who speaks like that; is the only one who knows to hold me like this.'_

"Red..."

Fearfully, Red Alert looked up and choked in relief when he saw those deep blue optics looking back at him; a smile on lip components, so soft and loving, and just for him. This really was Inferno! The security director lunged forward, mashing their mouths together in a desperate kiss, which Inferno accepted and fluidly turned into a gentle, passionate embrace. Breaking apart, Red Alert quickly pressed his faceplates into the firetruck's neck cables, winding his thin arms tightly about the other mech's broad shoulders.

"Uh... h-he's alright now," Inferno blushed, smiling wryly at their unexpecting audience.

"I-i s-see... well, l-let's get the both of you back to normal," First Aid replied, cheekplates just as flushed as he turned to a nearby cupboard.

* * *

"Hey, Red Al-"

"FOR THE LAST FRAGGING TIME, I'M NOT RED ALERT!"

Cosmos squeaked in fright, quickly backing up from the red and white lamborghini. "I-i... I'm sorry?," the green mech stuttered in apology. His confusion came through his vocalizer though, causing surrounding 'bots to chuckle in mirth, though it was anything but amusing to the irritated lamborghini.

"Don't be so mad, 'Sides," Sunstreaker spoke up from behind the other mech.

Sideswipe only growled, turning to face his twin. "It's not funny! Everybody keeps mistaking me for Red Alert. We don't even act the fragging same! When I find the slagger that changed my paintjob..."

In the corner, Perceptor and Red Alert stood side by side, helms close together as they giggled at Sideswipe's misfortune. "I must thank you for your assistance," the security director said, optics narrowed gleefully as he watched another unsuspecting 'bot try to calm down the angry "Red Alert". "I had not expected you to be interested in helping me with my revenge."

"Your vengeance was all in good humour," Perceptor replied, chuckling again as Sunstreaker began to taunt his brother further. "And honestly, well deserved on Sideswipe's part. There was no reasonable explanation for his reckless tomfoolery. Besides... who would have conceived that he would appear so dashing bedecked in white and red."

Red Alert merely shook his helm at the strange scientist, noting that information down in his processor for future reference.


End file.
